


détente et entente

by inverse



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Character Study, Gen, M/M, Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 06:52:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5038129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inverse/pseuds/inverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in winter, ushijima meets oikawa again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	détente et entente

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this donkey years ago but now i am too tired of waiting for shiratorizawa arc to end so that i can fix any future changes in characterisation or develop it any further. the feeling of willingly allowing yourself to be jossed is very liberating.

I.

Ushijima is taking a jog when he sees Oikawa again. It is mid-December but not yet snowing and therefore still conducive weather for outdoor exercise; Ushijima is wearing a padded windbreaker and the exertion from running will generate any excess bodily heat that is required to keep him warm. He is running past a café when he spots Oikawa sitting at a table behind the glassy windowpanes, near the entrance. Oikawa is accompanied by a few of his peers – Ushijima recognises them to be fellow (ex-) members of the Aobajousai volleyball club – there are books and stationery and food and drinks laid out in front of them but they are not paying attention to anything on the table and are instead laughing away. If they were there to study then they should be ashamed of themselves for procrastinating.

Ushijima continues running.

After he laps the neighbourhood and returns to the same spot, approximately half an hour later, Oikawa and his friends are still there. Ushijima wants to rest, and he needs to replenish his water intake. He enters the place.

Oikawa’s table falls silent as soon as they notice that he is there. The difference is obvious because they were very noisy before, but after Ushijima enters, the place is a lot quieter. There are four of them, Oikawa included, and they all stare at him in a mixture of surprise, annoyance, and reprehension. Other customers start staring at him too, probably because they’re curious about the source of the sudden hush.

“Good afternoon,” Ushijima says, and is promptly ignored.

He goes up to the counter and orders his drink. He has been to this particular place once or twice. All the food here is especially expensive given the mediocre quality. It’s not as if he could not afford it, but he would rather not waste this kind of money if he could. He orders a cup of hot green tea, retrieves his drink and takes a seat at a table that’s far away from Oikawa’s. Over the years he has gotten the impression that Oikawa and his friends do not particularly like him, and he is not very sure why. He has always treated them with due respect and has been nothing but exceedingly straightforward, honest and truthful in his discourse with them as fellow players. It is okay, he is here to rest after his afternoon run, and he will leave after he finishes his drink.

About ten minutes later, one of them gets up from their table to order something. He passes by Ushijima’s table.

“Want to join us?” he asks. He looks slightly apologetic, as if to make up for all of them ignoring Ushijima earlier. “We’re studying for the entrance exams but we’re taking a break now.”

“I’m good, thank you for asking,” Ushijima replies. Ushijima recalls that this person used to be a middle blocker but cannot remember his name. He was an average player. All of them were average, really, except for Oikawa.

Cannot-remember-his-name returns to their table with a plate of sandwiches. Ushijima drinks some more of his hot tea. Usually, in December, the members of the Shiratorizawa volleyball club would be training hard for Nationals. This year they won’t have to go, though Ushijima is sure that the first and second years are hard at work. Ushijima has thought about this frequently ever since Shiratorizawa failed to qualify for their usual spot in the Nationals. Occasionally he will wonder how much of a part he had to play in the occurrence of the event and how it reflects upon him as a sportsman. He has tasted defeat often on the international stage, but nationally, and especially within the prefecture, not so much.

To be honest, there is, in Ushijima’s experience, not much of a point dwelling on something like that now that it has passed. They had lost fair and square and he is able to wish Karasuno all the best in their future endeavours sincerely. They are a decent team, though Ushijima cannot honestly say that he thinks that its future incarnations will continue to play with such class. After all, one single incident is no proof of a pattern. Anyway, he will soon have to decide whether he is going to university or whether he is going to play for a professional team. There are also plans for him to move up to the U-21 national squad. As usual he will need to continue working on maintaining a constant level of fitness.

Ushijima finishes the last of his tea and exits the place. Oikawa and his friends are now deeply engrossed in what seems like a mass essay-writing exercise. Good for them.

 

 

II.

The air outside is crisp and the wind cuts the top of Ushijima’s cheek like a knife. He zips his windbreaker all the way up. It would have been cumbersome to bring a scarf along on a jog, but now that he is all warm and cosy from sitting inside the café for quite a while, the difference in temperatures is palpable. He narrows his eyes against the draft and prepares to run home. It will take him about fifteen minutes.

“Ushiwaka-chan,” calls someone behind him. It could only be one person.

“Don’t call me that, Oikawa,” Ushijima says.

“Ushiwaka-chan,” Oikawa repeats, probably just to annoy Ushijima more, because he knows that Ushijima hates this nickname. Ushijima turns to wait for him. It appears that he has hastily put his coat on, and the fabric has bunched over his arms and shoulders in odd places. His hands are ungloved. He is not wearing a scarf either, but the grey patterned sweater that he is wearing has a high neckline, so Ushijima supposes that is something. Behind him the door is still swinging slightly from having been thrown open, and if Ushijima squints he can see Oikawa’s teammates still sitting at their table through the glass. They are all staring at Ushijima surreptitiously. Ushijima makes eye contact with the one who is called Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi narrows his eyes at Ushijima, then looks away.

Oikawa falls into step with Ushijima. “So much spare time to come out jogging in mid-December, Ushiwaka-chan? No need to go for training? Ah, I forgot! Shiratorizawa is not going to the Nationals this year! That’s why you’re so free.”

“Have you come only to gloat, Oikawa,” Ushijima asks.

“Yes,” replies Oikawa.

They walk along the pavement. Cyclists pass them by. Then a row of houses that look uninhabited, doors closed, curtains drawn, soundless. Chattering schoolgirls along a grassy field. Finally the path leads to a branch in the road. Ushijima wonders if Oikawa knows where he is going. He wonders if Oikawa is going to follow him home. They walk in silence for some distance, long enough for Ushijima to wonder if Oikawa knows he is going to have to walk back to the café in the cold all by himself.

“How does it feel,” Oikawa says suddenly. The area has become quiet. Ushijima’s neighbourhood is not heavily populated and neither are the streets leading up to it. Oikawa’s voice is not loud, but it ends up tangled within the gnarly branches of the trees lining both sides of the road, bald and black from winter.

“How does what feel?”

“Losing,” Oikawa says. Ushijima turns to look at him. Oikawa is staring straight ahead. His eyes are level and his hands are in the pockets of his coat. He is waiting, calmly, for an answer.

Ushijima thinks about how to best word himself as they continue along the road. It has now progressed into a mild slope. Finally he settles for, “We did not expect to be eliminated this early. We had a good chance of going all the way to the finals this year. Karasuno was a worthy challenger. I can respect that they won and I anticipate the growth of their younger players.”

“Really? I’m surprised. I thought you would have been hopping mad, losing for the first time at this stage and all.”

“You seem to have a very low opinion of me, Oikawa. My disposition has always been the same, whenever and wherever I am playing. To win, and if it does not happen, to make sure that it happens the next time round. To challenge all those who come. Those who only think about the possibility of failing will certainly fail all the time.”

“Spoken like someone with all kinds of experience,” Oikawa says. There is a sardonic smile on his face now, as if he is internally processing some sort of irony that is unbeknownst to Ushijima, a one-party inside joke. “Your world is so vast that you’re able to take such things in stride. I’m envious.” He turns to look at Ushijima and there is a pale, odd light that is reverberating from behind his eyes, like sunlight refracted in water. “But somehow I’m happy. Now we’re both losers here, Ushiwaka-chan, at the same time and the same place. You are not so great, after all.”

“You are not making sense.” Ushijima turns back to the road. It feels as if they have been walking for an eternity. He does not remember it being such a long walk home. Did they make a wrong turn? “Oikawa, there are a number of universities that have said that they would be happy to have me. I am strongly considering the invitation from Chuo University. If you are able, you should sit for their entrance examination. At the national level, there are only a few setters who play with your ability. I’ve said it before and I will say it again. A setter of your calibre should not be wasted on players with no talent. If you continue on your current path, no matter how hard you try, the results will be the same. The problem does not lie with you. The problem lies with those whom you choose to play with.”

Oikawa snorts. “You’re seriously annoying. Why did I decide to talk to you again? I thought that you might have learnt a lesson or two, but I guess I was wrong. Has it never occurred to you that you might be the last person I would ever want to play volleyball with? Or that I am capable of making decisions for myself? Or that I might have already been offered a place at a prestigious overseas university in order to develop my talent in volleyball?”

“Is that so? Congratulations then, Oikawa, and good luck.”

 

 

III.

In winter the days are short. As they travel further up the slope the sun appears to have begun its descent – for a mere few seconds the sky glows a fiery, intense golden, like liquid egg yolk – then it disappears beneath some horizon that is out of sight, far past the peak of the road that Ushijima is now walking on, and everything turns into the colour of sleet. Ushijima consults his wristwatch. It is not even 5 p.m. yet.

“Since you like giving me advice so much, Ushijima, I thought I’d offer you some advice too,” Oikawa continues. “You might not know this because nobody has bothered to tell you, but at some point in the future, how good you are as a player will not matter so much. Right, that’s all I’m going to say. Think about it.”

“You are deliberately being opaque,” Ushijima tells him. People should just express what they think and feel. Because people avoid the point, misunderstandings arise, and time is wasted.

He is about to tell Oikawa to clarify what he meant when he realises that he is now walking alone. He turns back to find that Oikawa is leaving.

“Oikawa,” he calls out, “if you continue to play at the college level, we are certain to meet again, one way or another. I hope you will not disappoint me.”

“Do you ever talk like a normal human being?” Oikawa replies, sounding exasperated. He is standing right in the middle of the road, on the white, painted line that divides the road into two lanes, and Ushijima, looking down, cannot see his face clearly because it has gotten darker. The naked trees lining either side of the road cover his face in faint shadows the shape of claws. In this part of town the streetlamps do not light up until after six, no matter what time the sunset is. It has been this way for years. “This world is a big place. Who knows where I will end up? Just you wait, Ushiwaka. One day I will be playing at the Asian Championships, or even the Olympics, and you’ll be the one watching me on television.”

Oikawa sure says some really absurd things. If he were to play at the national level, then Ushijima, who has already played at regional and international tournaments for two years now, is also bound to be there. There is no way he will be watching Oikawa on the television if that were the case.

Ushijima wonders why he is having this absurd conversation with Oikawa, both of them here, at the same time and the same place. He realises that it is, directly or indirectly, because both of them have been eliminated one after another in the National preliminaries. That was why Oikawa was in the area studying for the university entrance exams and that was why Ushijima had the time to go for a jog, and that was how they had met and why they were both here now.

“You should have come here to play volleyball, Oikawa,” Ushijima says finally, even though what’s past is past. “If you did, perhaps we would not be here having this conversation about all sorts of things that have not happened.”

Oikawa laughs. It is a derisive laugh, but there is no malice or spite.

“What, you’re still thinking about that?” he says. Bathed in the cold light, his silhouette is a mixture of greys from head to toe, granite hair, ashen face, his coat like woollen slate, a pale, watery smile. Ushijima feels like he is watching a black-and-white movie. “Maybe you’re right, but you’re probably wrong too. Remember what I said? No team is guaranteed victory. It is long past that time now, anyway. Run along, Ushiwaka-chan. Go home.”


End file.
